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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562072">No Funeral</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian'>Polyhexian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, MTMTE 47 au, POV Third Person, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:49:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayyy instead of shooting whirl with the nudge gun getaway just shoots him with a regular gun because I'm edgy and that's what I felt like writing about. Rereading mtmte hurts</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cyclonus &amp; Whirl (Transformers), Cyclonus/Tailgate (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>AUs where whirl dies</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Funeral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cyclonus adjusted his grip on the minibot's hand, smoothing his thumb over metacarpal pistons that lay still in their housings, as motionless as their unconscious owner. The monitor above his head blipped and beeped, projecting a dim glow of coloured lights that he was certain must all mean things, important things, though he couldn't parse what any of it might be.</p><p>On the medical berth on Tailgate's opposite side Whirl lay even more still, grey beneath the dimmed lights of the medbay at night, the display above what remained of his head, offline. He wasn't much in need of it. It had been too late for him by the time Cyclonus had even reached his room. </p><p>Cyclonus tried not to look at him. Tailgate was alive. That was supposed to be all that mattered. Whirl had been <em> involved </em> in the whole scheme, he shouldn't <em> care </em> that he was dead. </p><p>
  <em> You aren't afraid of me, and you're certainly not my friend.  </em>
</p><p>He shifted his grip on Tailgate's hand again, returning his gaze to the floor.</p><p>He wasn't certain how he felt about his last words to the old copter anymore. He hadn't known they would be. He wondered if he might have said something different if he had known. He wasn't sure he would.</p><p>The first time they had met had been a disaster, an idiotic fight over nothing, but in hindsight… the energon tanks on the floor, the speech, the lit match? He had known what he walked into. He had said nothing of it. Not then, nor any time after. Not even when he had provided the key to saving Tailgate from Cybercrosis. No, Cyclonus had not been his friend. </p><p>Ratchet returned with a float palette, optics weary, no snappy retort on his tongue. Cyclonus waited until he had pulled the palette beside the other medical berth to stand and help him move Whirl's body onto it. It was strange to lift him like this- he had always assumed he was so much heavier than he actually was, though any time they came in contact with each other before this it had been with great force behind it.</p><p>"I'm moving him to the morgue," Ratchet said, hoarsely, as Cyclonus stepped back, "I'll be back soon."</p><p>Ratchet began to move away and Cyclonus fidgeted, running his claws together in thought before he spoke again, stopping him, "I had wanted to- say a few words, at his service. Did he have a religious affiliation listed on his medical documents?"</p><p>Ratchet didn't turn back towards him. "Atheist," he answered, "He only had one request listed for the event of his death."</p><p>"That being?"</p><p>"No funeral," Ratchet answered, and led the float palette out of the room. The doors shut behind him, and Cyclonus sat back down beside Tailgate, picking up his hand again. </p><p>He was surprised Whirl had any kind of will on file at all. He seemed so reluctant to plan ahead for anything. </p><p>He wanted to fill the dull, uncomfortable ache in his spark with familiar anger, wanted to soothe the burn with how much he wanted to kill Getaway for his actions, wanted to make him pay for what he had done, but the anger would not come. He was awash with relief that Tailgate was here, alive, safe, and then… something else, something even more strange and unfamiliar, regarding the other empty medical berth and the body that had just left. Grief? Regret? Guilt? Something needled at his spark, sharp and hollow, and all he could think was that he wished the last time they had spoken he had not asserted they were not friends, even if it was true.</p><p>"He won't wake up for a few hours," First Aid said, and Cyclonus looked up, as the doors clicked open again to usher in the doctor, "You should get some rest. You must be exhausted."</p><p>"I would much rather stay here," Cyclonus answered, "I will not leave him."</p><p>"Suit yourself," First Aid shrugged, heading toward his desk. Cyclonus looked away, back to the minibot and the way his monitor display cast light across his chassis, blips of colour that made strange shadows across bubbled plating. </p><p>"You know," First Aid said, filling the silence, "I had my money on you the whole time. I think we all lose, since Getaway ended up doing the deed."</p><p>"What?" asked Cyclonus, frowning.</p><p>"Whirl," First Aid specified, "Swerve had a betting pool for which one of you would kill the other first. I had my money on you getting him in the end." </p><p>Cyclonus stared at him.</p><p>"I mean, there was a pool for unrelated cause of death, but I don't think it was very popular, since-"</p><p>"Be quiet," Cyclonus growled, fiercer than he had meant to. First Aid went silent. Cyclonus turned away, back to Tailgate.</p><p>No, they had definitely not been friends. Never that. </p>
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